


The Bumble Bet

by 221b_gone_feels



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Bees, Bets & Wagers, Established Relationship, Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Fluff, M/M, Sherlock Holmes and Bees, like hella fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-08
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-07-27 22:01:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16228181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/221b_gone_feels/pseuds/221b_gone_feels
Summary: Sherlock decides to take up John on a bet. Though, he loses, he looks incredibly cute.





	The Bumble Bet

The item laid on his bed. Sherlock didn't even want to touch it. He couldn't believe that he lost this stupid bet to John. It started when Sherlock was talking about his amazing memory with names, places, and dates the day before.

"That's bull. You can't even remember Lestrade's first name!" John had argued. Sherlock looked offended, but John looked at him like he was an idiot.

"Wrong. I know his name," Sherlock responded.

A small glint appeared in the doctor's eye, "Bet."

Sherlock, being Sherlock, agreed to the bet against his boyfriend. The terms were he had one hour to talk to the DI and get his name correct. He was not allowed to ask his name, obviously, and neither of them were allowed to tell the man of the ongoing contest. If Sherlock won, he would get to use the fridge for experiments for a week without John yelling at him. If he lost, John said he had to wear an article of clothing of John's choosing for twenty-four hours. After the rules had been placed, John had messaged Lestrade to meet them at the pub for a chat.

"Hello, Gavin!" Sherlock greeted with a smug smile. John held back a laugh. Lestrade raised an eyebrow but returned the gesture anyway. The night went on with Sherlock calling him a litany of names. Geoff, Gus, George, Gabe, Garrett, Grant, and even Glen. John tried his damnedest to not let his beer come out his nose throughout the whole conversation about mindless things. Suddenly, his phone timer went off.

Lestrade was about to ask John who was calling him, but Sherlock cut him off with a sharp slam of his pint glass. John looked at him. "Thank you for joining us. We'll see you next time. Good night, Greg," He said sweetly and shook his hand, dropping a few dollars on the table to pay the tab.

"Greg? It was Greg?!" The brunet shouted. John pushed him out of the booth and escorted him to the door. "Oh, god, I can't believe you won," Sherlock pouted while they walked back to baker street. John just gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

The next morning, Sherlock awoke to an empty bed. Well, almost. There was a black gift back in place of John. Sherlock rubbed the sleep from his eyes and sat up, pulling the bag into his lap. On top was a small note that said, " _You're gonna look so cute,_ " with a small heart drawn on it. The writing was smudged, obviously from his left-handed boyfriend who was currently making tea and breakfast in the kitchen. The detective set the note aside and pulled the garment from the bag. His eyes grew wide.

"John Watson, you are a dead man," He whispered. He stood and laid the clothing on the bed. He knew that John knew he liked bees, so that didn't surprise him. What did surprise him, was what type of clothing he had chosen for the tall man. It was a bee onesie. Fluffy yellow stripes when down the front until the waist. The hood had the same soft yellow fabric on the top with jewel-like buttons for eyes and adjustable antennas. Then the back, oh, the back, had two floppy white wings and a small yellow stinger on the rear.

John was sitting comfortably at the kitchen table, sipping his tea and reading the paper while waiting for his egg in a hole breakfast to cool. He heard the bedroom door creak open. Setting the paper down, he leaned over to look at the man coming out. Sherlock shyly shuffled out in the bee onesie. The hood fell over his turned down face, covering his bright blushing cheeks. He stuffed his hands in the pockets. "Oh, my god," John whispered when Sherlock stopped at the table. He stood and walked over to the man and cupped his face to look him in the eyes. "You look absolutely adorable," John smiled, "honey."

Sherlock burrowed his face in the shorter man's neck and wrapped his arms around him. "I hate you," he mumbled. John laughed and stroked the wings softly.

"I love you too," he whispered in response, reaching down and flicking the stinger. Sherlock gave a small yelp and pulled back. He blushed more. John kissed him gently. The bee clad man relaxed into the kiss. That is until John started buzzing quietly. He pulled away and grumbled as he sat down to eat. John kissed the top of his head and joined him for the rest of the meal. Though the outfit was soft and warm, he had no idea if he would survive the bee puns flowing from his boyfriend.

Sherlock learned two things that day. One, John was not allowed to go shopping for clothes ever again. Two, he really liked when the solider called him, "His little bumblebee."

**Author's Note:**

> Not gonna lie, I wrote this based on the onesie I am currently wearing, aka, this one here.


End file.
